A few years back, we actually ponied up the $80 to attend our 10-year reunion, but got the dates screwed up and missed it. Still, a few friends of ours did make it, and the reports were excellent. The bullying jock we hated the most is not only pushing 400 pounds and saddled with a couple of illegitimate offspring, but now works as a manager at a toilet paper factory. Tee hee. That was just the highlight however, as shadenfraud abounded. Bald, fat and sad seemed to be the dominant themes. Fast foreword a few years and we'll be ready to pounce all over our 20th. But what to drive? What car will let all the suckers know that they're still suckers and that I should have been voted most likely to succeed? Exactly, a Rolls Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe. You?

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